


The Folly of Youth

by SandrC



Series: Not Another Fanfiction Collection [28]
Category: Not Another D&D Podcast (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Got real sad, Present Tense, Time is fucky, introspective, sorrynotsorry, you ever think about the faewild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23776960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandrC/pseuds/SandrC
Summary: And all of a sudden, like a miracle from a god she doesn't pray to any more—He hasn't aged aday.
Relationships: Cran/Derlin (Not Another D&D Podcast)
Series: Not Another Fanfiction Collection [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1312925
Comments: 14
Kudos: 43





	The Folly of Youth

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Tending The Garden](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23550934) by [fangwulf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangwulf/pseuds/fangwulf). 



The city is coming down. The world is ending. Or, at least, that's what it _feels_ like to them. They're _kids_ , after all, and the most combat they've ever seen was the failed Jamboreen a few weeks before. The Jamboreen that Bev and his new scoutmasters saved them from. Then there's _this_ ; the Chosen coming in and taking over, framing Mister B for the murder of Merrick High Hill, trying to kill people, burning down Galaderon. Herding any who didn't share their faith like sheep to the slaughter.

Their world is ending, insofar as they know, and the fear is bigger than their bodies. They huddle with other refugees—Green Knights, White Knights, Mister B, Bev's Uncle Duck, and half a dozen others—in the temple to Pelor while the Green and White Knights move to perform _some_ kind of ritual to send them somewhere _safe_. They can hear the adults talking about how _the doors won't hold much longer._ They can hear them whisper about Thiala and angels and _death_.

They're _terrified_. Not _just_ the few children huddling there, but also the _adults_.

Derlin holds Cran's hand tightly, his knuckles white as he clutches the shield he snagged from the armory. She's holding on to a long rapier with a wild design, more a fencing foil than a functional blade, but whatever helps. They're chest to chest. They're _scared_.

The world goes green, burning as the chanting of the Knights swells and they feel a strange breeze wash over them.

Then there's _silence_.

They're safe, but far from home. They've escaped to the Faewild.

For a long while, they don't know what this means until it's explained to them. A plane adjacent to home. The house of the Fae. _Watch your words, don't take food from strangers, be **wary** , be **clever** , and keep iron on your person._

The Knights take charge, rounding up everyone into a large group and setting them to various tasks. The Green Teens start building lean-tos, gathering firewood and supplies while the older folks figure out the politics. The shock numbs the fear and pain of losing their home.

It takes them months to settle in. Months more before the nightmares fade in any intensity. They never truly leave, but they dull, a throbbing ache in their chest, a hollow carved out in their memories. Poor nights of sleep become the norm until they don't need as much as they used to. Something about the nature of this plane.

Everyone lives in a large communal home at first. Parents who left behind their children take in children with no parents. Everyone is rubbed raw and terrified of the new and the possible. When Mister B and the head of the White Knights come back with news of a contract formed with Queen Cirilla of the Summer Court, everyone is appropriately suspicious but Mister B—haggard and worn down, his eyes harder than they've ever been before, no longer the stern man he used to be but broken in a way Cran and Durlin don't have words for yet—assures them of the exact wording. _It matters._

They move _again_ , this time into the ever-growing Summer Court. They have more permanent homes. Everyone becomes more independent. They start to forget their previous home, their family, _before_ they were of the Summer Court. They grow up. They get married.

(Derlin proposes one day while they're patrolling. He's uncharacteristically quiet and introspective and gets down on one knee and asks her if she'll be his. She laughs so hard she pukes and tells him she will. The wedding is in summer— _everything_ is but it's so _normal_ they don't seem to notice until they experience the seasons again—and they settle in together.)

They have kids. _Two_ of them, named for people that are important to them beyond _all measure_. Mister B becomes Captain Toegold, the three of them seeking a reminder of their relationship with Bev in each other. None of them do.

They watch as their world falls apart again, impotently unable to stop it, despite being older and wiser and stronger.

They run. _Hide_. Barter with and fall prey to the Bear Prince. And then, _alone_ , she hides, panicked. _Waits_. Watches. And all of a sudden, like a miracle from a god she doesn't pray to any more—

_He hasn't aged a **day.**_

She's easily _twice_ his age and he hasn't changed _one bit_. It's been _twenty-five years_ for her and _a month_ for them.

She wants to puke. She _almost_ does. Instead she grits her teeth and asks for help and she can't help but trace the scar on his forehead—she remembers that being there _last_ time she saw him but not the time _before_ , which makes her question if it's _him_ , but he laughs and _of course_ it's him—and think how he's almost the same age as their kids.

_He's almost the same age as their kids_ and he doesn't know _how tragic_ that is.

_She_ barely does.

Time is a fucking _nightmare_. Time is a _lie_.

And he makes goofs and jokes like he used to and she wants to join in but things are dire and he doesn't seem to understand this and, for just one moment, the phrase "he's just a kid" crosses her mind and _oh, **fuck.**_

_Fuck._

She was born the same year he was and _he's just a child._

_Fucking **shit.**_

When they manage to get back her husband—because she _knows_ they would, they're Bev and his scoutmasters, they're competent and powerful, they wouldn't fail her—the two of them move into the Bear Prince's palace while they wait on the three of them—or, rather, _four_ , because they have this older halfling gentleman with them that they treat with a kindness that she sees as _familial_ but he isn't Captain Toegold so he _can't_ be that—to save Queen Cirilla. Because if anyone can save her, if _anyone_ can break this curse, then it's them. And they wish them fair travels and wave them off.

Cran collapses in bed with Derlin and sobs herself unconscious, crying about things being unfair. Crying about _time_. Crying about _kids_ , about _home_ , about _parents_.

When she sleeps, she dreams of fire and ash and feathers and salt. When she sleeps, she dreams of ice and time and age and pain. When she wakes, she _worries_. When she worries, she _thinks_. And the cycle spirals ever downward but Derlin saves her, grips her by the wrist and drags her up into the air and holds her close and whispers loving things in her ears.

He's her anchor. _Her home_. She curls against him and asks again and _again_ , "Are we doing the right thing?"

And his answer is _always_ "As best we can, dear."

Their children are _safe_. They run and jump and exist in a living capacity and it's all Cran can do to keep from laughing herself sick for the hysteria of it all. Bev and his scoutmasters and their strange halfling pull through. And time, as before, passes.

Time passes. They return back to their daily grind, only _not_. In their wake, Bev and his scoutmasters and their friend have given the Crown and Court of Winter to Jovyre, Princess of Autumn, and with the Bear Prince gone, Queen Cirilla bears the mantle of Summer and Spring. The four of them decide to allow seasons to change and time to pass among the Courts. Things change. They stay the same.

Moonwon and Beverlin grow older, as one does when time pases, and Cran and Derlin teach them how to hold a blade and a tune, fire a bow and spells, bear a shield and the burden of their Court and their duties. They wonder how Bev and his scoutmasters and their friend are doing. How time works _over there_ , in a place that is no longer home. _Hasn't_ been home for twenty-five years.

And the sky rends open and they can hear Moonshine call for help and they answer, rushing forward.

When all is said and done, they remain in the Prime Material Plane, there to help end Thiala's crusade. And Cran does her best to not think too hard about time and home and family and _time_.

About how she's her parents' age.

About how time is different back home, compared to here.

About her kids. _Their_ kids.

_About time._

She buries her face in Derlin's back at night and holds back everything she can. She can't worry about this right now. There's worse things going on than just coming home to grown children.

The end of the world. The end of _everything_.

She _can't_ be petty. She _can't_ be _childish_.

There's _so much more_ at stake.

And time keeps marching on.


End file.
